


Riding the Storm

by RustedWireWitch



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Aggressive use of the Red Dead Redemption Soundtrack, Alternate Universe - Western, Cowboys & Cowgirls, F/M, M/M, Western, bisexual cowboys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-11 00:38:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16465370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RustedWireWitch/pseuds/RustedWireWitch
Summary: A Western AU for Yu-Gi-Oh! GX, with a promise of bisexual cowboys to come.Using sub names - Was that the best choice considering the action is moved to the American Old West? Probably not, but I never claimed to plan things well.Barometershipping into Stormshipping.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

  
Dusk was falling on Pueblo Del Juegos by the the time that Manjoume rode into town. Judging by the sounds of things, most people were indoors with only a few scattered inhabitants still working out in the open. It had been a long time since he come by this way, or at least it certainly felt that way. The streets were still the same and the buildings still intact, he wondered if he could find his way to his destination without any trouble.

  
He didn’t wonder long. Two lefts and a right, past a group of craftsmen that sized him up and seemed to be trying to figure out where they knew him from, he found the Tenjouin ranch.

  
A huge, blocky barn beside a vast, well-tended field. A perfectly painted farmhouse next door with flickering lights in the windows. It was just as he had remembered it, save for one or two minor changes like the fence or a lick of paint here and there. He rode his plodding black horse up to a nearby hitching post and dismounted, marching his way over to the farmhouse, trying to ignore the aches in his back and rear from the long journey. The satchel over his shoulder was heavy, but it was nothing compared to the suitcase that he hoisted from the back of the saddle. Enough changes of clothes to last him his entire stay. When he had said that he needed the sturdiest horse around, he had meant it.

  
He opened the gate and made his way up the dirt path to the farmhouse, not even getting halfway there before the door ahead opened out, two familiar figures standing silhouetted.

  
“Well well well,” Fubuki roared out, “I see our new farmhand has arrived a little early.”

  
Manjoume smiled, put his head down and continued to lug his cases up the path, being stopped halfway by the suitcase swinging upwards. He looked to see Asuka Tenjouin holding the opposite handle, lifting it into the air without any issue. She looked to him with a little concern flashing in her eyes.

  
“Looked like you could use a hand.” She said quietly.

  
~

  
The three of them ate together that night, a dish of meat and rice that Manjoume realised he had sorely missed. Good old fashioned home cooking was something he had been longing for his entire journey here, chewing on trail rations and stale bread.

  
They talked about the Academy, about the past, about Manjoume’s journey. It wasn’t until after the meal was finished and they were comfortable lounging back with coffee that the conversation turned to why he was there.

  
“Getting help around here is getting more and more difficult,” Asuka said. “We can usually find one or two people to stay on a season and get the cattle over to the next town, maybe help with maintenance on the barn. This year, nothing.”

  
“So, we got to thinking,” Fubuki continued on, “in your letters you were saying how you going to be sitting around bored all summer, waiting for something to just come along and happen. We need an extra pair of hands for said summer. Hey, perfect match!”

  
“You realise I’ve barely even picked up a set of tools in my life, right?” Manjoume arched his eyebrow as he looked between the two of them. “I mean, I’m a duellist first and foremost. Are you sure I’m not going to be getting in the way more than helping?”

 

“Trust me Thunder,” Fubuki smiled, “there aint nothing to it. Before fall rolls around we’ll make an honest working man out of you. Mark my words.”

  
“Or failing that, we’ll at least stop you from being bored. There’s plenty to do.” Asuka lifted a leather-bound ledger onto the table, full of papers, receipts and to-do lists.

  
It was a tall order. Manjoume knew he would enjoy his time here with the Tenjouins, but was he really the best person for this job? Probably not, though it did appear that he was the only person for the job.

  
“Where do I start?” He asked, smiling at Asuka before feeling a faint whoozy sensation overtaking him and a warmth in his cheeks. He turned away, looking to Fubuki, the elder Tenjouin’s eyebrow raised and a playful expression playing across his lips.

  
“Well, for now you can go upstairs and get unpacked. Tomorrow we start working you.” He said with a wink.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

  
“To the left!” Fubuki called out, gently swinging the beam of wood on its suspensions towards Manjoume. The heavy timbers floated with a deceptive grace and weightlessness, supported by the cables to the ceiling of the barn. Manjoume caught the end and started guiding it towards the collection on the far side of the building. He knew that with one false move, the cables could become loose and that beam could fall and crush anything, or anyone unlucky enough to be underneath it. He knew because it had been the first thing Fubuki had told him that morning, with a playful shove of course.

“That’s it,” Manjoume shouted back. “Last one’s in place!”

“Good,” Fubuki pulled his hat down and started to fan himself with it. “Not sure how much longer I could’ve kept that up. Don’t have the youth that my sister and you do.”

Manjoume frowned. Fubuki was only a few years older than him. He could never tell when the rancher was making a joke or being deadly serious.

“What next?”

“Next?” Fubuki looked perplexed, “next we take a break, Thunder. Grab a canteen and we’ll sit for a moment. Asuka gets to go and have her hot bath so it aint fair that we have to sit and do all the work all the while, right?”

“I… I guess so…” Manjoume picked up a canteen from the mountings on the wall, barely even aware that he was staring straight down at the ground, that same warmth in his cheeks returning.

“Imagining that, huh?” 

His head snapped up, mouth opening and closing with silent protests.

“It’s ok Thunder, I know you’ve got a crush on Asuka, you don’t need to get all flustered and whatnot with me. Cute though it is.”

“I promise you, Fubuki, I have no designs on any-“

“Thunder. Seriously, calm down will you?” Fubuki started to walk outside, carrying himself up onto a large hay bale, lounging back and taking a long swig of water. “You’d think a pro duellist would have a bit more of a dramatic flair though, right? I mean, how are you planning to sweep her off her feet?”

“I’m not planning to sweep anyone of their feet!”

“You don’t have a plan!?” Fubuki glared down at him. “Oh no, no no no, that won’t do, Thunder. A man’s gotta fight for love and he’s got to fight for it with everything he has. Without any passion or theatrics… Well, it just won’t cut it.”

“Won’t cut what?”

“Luckily, you’ve got the single best love-teacher in the State, no, the country, no, the world at your side!” Fubuki grinned and jumped down from the hay, clapping the dizzy Manjoume on the shoulder.

“Follow me Thunder, I’m going to take you under my wing.”

~

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you said you were going to teach me!” Manjoume shouted, suspended from the ceiling of the barn by the same cables that had held up the heavy beams earlier. He swayed in the air, hands clasped tightly around the thick strands.

“Will you quit that belly-aching? You’re perfectly safe, those cables hold heavy timbers up in the air for hours at a time, they’re not going to break because of you, trust me.”

“Why am I even doing this?”

“Because in every great love story, the hero has to, at some point, swing on something through an open window and impress everyone. Maybe it’s a chandelier, or a rope, or a bullwhip or whatever. The important thing is, he swings through an open window and everyone realises that he’s the romantic lead. You understand?”

“Not even a little!”

“Ok, then understand this. I’m going to pull on the cable wheel at the base of the wall down here. That will loosen the ropes, allowing you to swing forwards. I want you to swing through that big ol’ hole up there. Once you’re outside, let go and you’ll fall-“

“I’ll what!?”

“You didn’t let me finish. You’ll fall onto the hay bales. They’re soft, they’ll break your fall. You’re going to be fine, Thunder. Now, are you ready?”

“No!”

“Three!”

“Wait!”

“Two!”

“Fubuki this really isn’t-“

“ONE!”

It all happened in a blur. At first Manjoume was gliding through the air, the vast wall of the barn rushing forwards to meet him. He grit his teeth in expectation of the collision, the cable going taut at the last minute and sending him on an upwards trajectory, up towards the open window. He sailed outside, marvelling at the sudden light, the fresh air, the smell of the hay below him.  
In all the confusion and excitement, he forgot to let go of the cable, continuing on his speedy journey until the ropes slammed into the frame of the barn’s window, tugging him violently to the left and sending him on a collision course with the upper level of the farmhouse. 

He let go.

He sailed towards a window.

There was a smash, a crash, splintering wood, a splash. Everything went warm as bathwater surrounded him.

And then the screaming started.


End file.
